“Did I hear my name?” Tristan says, surprising me from the side. I’m surprised because I didn’t feel him coming. I know it sounds weird, but usually I can sort of sense when he’s near, and when he gets closer the pull toward him gets stronger. But this time I feel nothing. Come to think of it, the buzz in my scalp and the tingles along my spine are gone too. I’ve gotten so used to them whenever Tristan is near that it’s almost stranger not feeling them.
“I was just telling Trevor how he can only trust you as far as he can throw you,” I joke, trying to cover up our missing magnetism. Does he still feel it?
“She’s right,” he says, playing along. “I’m a real scoundrel at heart.”
“When we have a bit of a training session later today, you might be surprised just how far I can throw you,” Trevor says.
“We’ll see about that,” Tristan retorts.
Guys, I think, always flexing their muscles, whether with words or fists. “Anyway,” I say, “considering I’ll probably beat you both later, let’s get some breakfast and save the talking for the strategizing.”
“Hand-to-hand combat is no place for a girl,” Trevor says with a sneer. He sounds more like the old Trevor now.
“Then you haven’t seen her fight,” Tristan says, pride in his voice. My cheeks and neck warm when he says it.
“Actually, I have,” Trevor replies. “And I wasn’t that impressed.”
“So you were impressed,” I say, catching him in his words.
“Mildly,” he says, “but I’m not sure I’d be comfortable hitting a girl anyway.”
“Then I guess that’ll make it easier for me to hit you,” I say.
* * *
Breakfast is quick and bland. We won’t train until later, choosing to travel when we’re energized.
Our upward climb continues for three, four, five, six hours, who knows? I stop paying attention to time at some point. There’s very little talking as that takes energy—energy we can’t afford to waste. We only stop twice to pee and rehydrate.
Eventually the tunnel levels out and a few hundred feet later we find words scraped into the rock walclass="underline" Welcome to the Sun Realm. I silently thank the Resistance tunneler for the casual signpost.
We’ve done it! Well, the easy part that is—just getting here. The hard part is still to come. The funny thing is that it doesn’t feel any different than the Moon Realm—at least not yet. It’s still just a dark, gray, monotonous tunnel. A Sun Realm tunnel technically, but a tunnel just the same.
Another mile or so down the track we find a set of stairs leading up to the right. My mom warned us about this: that there would be a number of tunnel exits, before a sudden end. This is the first we’ve seen and therefore, the tunnel continues further on, so we have a choice to make. Onwards or upwards. Unfortunately there’s no map for this tunnel, because it’s never been used. Before we left, Mom told us that because the passage was constructed so haphazardly and the rebellion was snuffed out so quickly, there wasn’t even a chance to map it. Originally the plan was for the secret tunnel to loop underneath each and every sun dweller subchapter, to be used in the event of an invasion by the Lower Realms, but there was only time to make it a few subchapters deep. They just haven’t had the time or the manpower to continue the project in earnest.
“What do you think?” I say to Tristan. “Any idea where we are?”
“Well, we left from Moon Realm subchapter one and headed due east. My guess would be somewhere between subchapters eighteen and twenty-one in the Sun Realm. What do you think, Roc?”
Roc strokes his now-stubbly chin. “Sounds about right. But it’s possible we haven’t even gone that far yet. We could still be in the subchapter fifteen to seventeen loop somewhere.”
“So where does that leave us?” Ram says, his voice a deep rumble.
“If we’re trying to get to subchapter one…” Roc says.
“We are,” Tristan confirms.
Roc nods. “Then we’ll need to either catch a train from subchapter seventeen or twenty-one, or cut across the Realm starting with subchapter eighteen.”
“If we decide to go on foot, it’ll be a three-day march at top speed,” Tristan adds.
“Why don’t we just scope it out first and then decide,” I suggest.
“The fewer people the better,” Trevor says. “I’d say two at the most.”
“I’ll go,” I say immediately.
“Me, too,” Tristan says. I’m glad. It might give me a chance to ask him about whether anything’s changed for him, like it did for me.
* * *
We start up the steps, me in front, Tristan close behind. I shine the flashlight up and up and up—at least fifty steps—but I can’t see the end of the staircase.
When we’re out of earshot from the others, who remain behind in the tunnel, I stop for a second, looking down at Tristan, who’s just two steps behind me. He stops, too, looking up at me curiously.
“Have you noticed any changes this morning?” I say.
“What do you mea—” he starts to say, but then stops. He raises an eyebrow and squints an eye and generally looks confused—but then there’s a spark of recognition. He flinches and a look of something—pain?—crosses his face. “It’s…it’s gone,” he says dazedly. “The pull—it’s gone.”
So he’s felt it too. Or, more like unfelt it. I sigh. “I was hoping maybe I was just having an off day.” I feel a surge of something…relief or concern, or maybe both…through my bones.
“But how?” he asks. “Why?”
I turn and continue climbing the steps; the taps of his footfalls follow shortly after. “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s like we lost our electric charge.”
“But I…I still like you.”
I laugh. “I still like you, too,” I say, mimicking his emphasis. “We’re still the same people, have the same personalities, have the same attractions. But whatever drew us together in the first place is gone. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“Are you saying it was something supernatural?” There’s a smile in his tone.
I’ve got no freaking clue. The whole thing makes no sense. I mean, I thought I was just attracted to Tristan because he’s hot and a celebrity and a really, really nice guy, caring and generous and loyal, and everything else a girl could want in a guy—and I am attracted to him for all of those reasons—but now I get the feeling that there’s more to the story, although I can’t even begin to explain it, especially not after what my mom said to me. It’s no accident that you and Tristan met.
“Not necessarily supernatural,” I finally say, “just something beyond us.” My explanation makes no sense, but it’s all I’ve got.
Tristan is silent for a few minutes, his presence given away only by the soft scrape of his boots on the stone.
The steps continue to rise before us, rough and jagged and almost haphazard, like they were built in a hurry, on a whim. Although my calves are burning slightly, it feels good, and helps to take my mind off of the change.
Tristan eventually breaks the silence. “Does this change anything?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.
I laugh again. “No. At least not for me. It’s just strange, that’s all.”
“Okay.”
Silence ensues, as awkwardness palpably churns through the air, which is unusual for Tristan and me. I guess something has changed.
Thankfully, the top of the climb isn’t far off, the steps peaking at a small landing. I wave the light around to take in my surroundings. Curved rock walls rise maybe fifteen feet to a bare ceiling. The space is empty save for a thin gray ladder attached to one of the walls. At the top of the ladder: a circular metal porthole.